Blind Fate
by Interlacing Stars
Summary: She was the key to the humanity he did not know he sought.  But when he encountered her, time and time again, he was blind to the fact.  And there are only so many chances fate will allow him before she is gone.  Forever.  Bella/Jasper.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Fate brought him to her continually, brought him to the one person that would make the savage within him settle and fade. She was reincarnated, time and time again, and each encounter he had with her brought him a step closer to the humanity he did not know he sought. When she was reborn, he was given one chance in her lifetime to recognize the fact that she was the one who would save him from himself. But every time he met her, each time he was given the opportunity, his eyes were blind. And so she disappeared from the earth for a short while, only to be brought back in another time, as another person, able to meet him once more.

Though she was different each time, there were a couple things that remained the same in each of her reincarnations. Things that, if his eyes were opened to see them, he would have known in an instant. She was never afraid of him, she was sickly, and apples in various forms were a part of their encounter, whether they be trees or fruit or the scent of them. Those were the only hints that were offered to him, but they were chaff in the wind, unimportant and tossed away without a second thought.

Though his mind should have worked perfectly, should have seen these hints, he had an excuse that allowed him many chances. He was frozen in a world that was changing in the blink of an eye. Unlike her, he was not trapped in the cycles of life and death. He was the same person every time they met, while she was different each time. So it was next to impossible for him to recognize her, only acknowledging the fact of a human stepping into his life's path for a short while. Something that happened often enough that he did not question it, did not think it odd.

But though he did not see, his heart remained open, for that was the source of his powers. His heart recognized that she was the one altering him for the better. And so while he pushed the memories of meeting her to a corner of his brain that was left relatively undisturbed, his heart remembered and learned from them. And because his heart learned, when the vampire who held onto the hands of fate met him, he was ready and willing to go with her.

It was with this little pixie-like vampire that he thought he was complete. For, with her, he led a completely different lifestyle. With her help, he found humanity. So he was content, happy with her. But his heart knew better, and waited for the one that it had encountered so many times before.

What his heart did not know was that she would enter into his life only one more time. If his eyes did not open, if he did not recognize her importance, she would die. And she would not return to him again.

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><p><strong>AN: I was always skeptical about writing a Twilight fanfiction...there are so many awesome stories out there all from amazing ideas, and so I was kind of nervous about "unoriginality". But I have been listening to a lot of good music lately and they've all been planting ideas in my head, so I figured, why the hell not. Yes, this is going to be a Bella/Jasper story. And yes, my chapters will be longer. I just figured a prologue should be short and sort of vague-ish. :)**

**So what do y'all think of the story so far?**

**Btw, I do not own Twilight. **


	2. Chapter 1: Trouble Breathing

**Chapter One: Trouble Breathing**

Maria had been right to change Jasper, seeing within him an ability that would help her rise victorious in her conquests. He was an empath, able to sense and change other's emotions. But Jasper was a soldier, through and through. He knew war was no place for emotions, but was quick to realize that being able to change other's emotions on the battlefield would come in handy. That part of his ability he strengthened and trained, until it came to him with no effort at all, while the other part was dulled, a mere whispering wind of emotion against his skin that he easily ignored.

This ability was what made him the army's commander, and he trained the newborns to fight. His brave heart was one of stone, for he did not care how they felt, did not care what they thought. Without a second thought, he forced them to be obedient and docile. Under him, Maria's army grew strong and powerful.

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><p><em><strong>1890s, Mexico<strong>_

He was no longer a newborn, already entering into his third decade as a vampire. Yet, all he knew was war. His life was war. He lived on fighting, thrived on the sensation of blood and violence. He was different from Peter, who was more of a diplomat, always giving the enemy a chance to realize the error of their way and to switch loyalties. Jasper, on the other hand, merely changed his opponents' emotions until they were distracted enough so that he could separate their head from their bodies. Peter was civilized compared to Jasper, but Jasper couldn't bring himself to be bothered by this. For violence filled him, fed the beast that tore and shredded his soul to pieces. It was this beast that led him to his position as second-in-command, under none but Maria.

Lucy and Nettie despised the favoritism Maria showed Jasper, hated how she lifted him, giving him power that was rightfully theirs. They had been with Maria from the start; for her to show such disloyalty struck wrongly with them. So they began to plan a rebellion, treachery in their heart.

Jasper felt the angry whisper of their treachery moments before they set their plan to motion. He was quick to act, destroying them before they could rise against his leader. For this, he was rewarded.

For the first time in over thirty years, Maria allowed him free rein. Usually she kept him close, never allowing him to stray too far from her. But, because of this display of undeniable loyalty, she allowed him to go wherever he wanted to feed. With a smile and a gentle kiss on the cheek, she bid him goodbye.

He inclined his head to her and turned to leave. Once out under the open sky, Peter appeared by his side, smiling. "Where will you go, brother?"

Jasper did not look at Peter, did not even acknowledge his presence in any way. After a moment, he whispered, "Home."

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><p>He was going home. Finally, after all these years, he was going home. At least, that's what he suspected. He didn't really know where home was, having no human memories whatsoever. But he could not deny the lightness in his feet, the sensation of being able to truly breathe. His mind may not have known, but his heart surely did.<p>

Finally, his feet stopped moving. He filled his lungs with air, scenting the area that his heart called home. After a moment of calculating, he figured he was somewhere in the middle of Texas, on the border of a couple ranches. Feeling the burning hunger begin to increase in desire, he took another deep breath, searching for acceptable prey.

There. A few miles from where he stood was a human female, alone and stationary. He gazed at the sky for a split-second, realizing that it was well past midnight. He began to run towards his next meal, wondering in the back of his mind why a human female was wandering around without an escort. But it was dismissed without a thought, most of his focus on the blood that was coursing through her veins.

When he was within a few yards of her, it hit him like a newborn of epic proportions. Her emotions were strong, stronger than any he had ever felt before. She was exhausted and sad, and it filled his senses until he did not know if the source of the emotions came from him or her. It caused him to stop dead in his tracks, made him actually look at the human he was about to eat.

She was sitting beneath an old apple tree, its branches stretching far above her head. She had an arm wrapped around her stomach, and every once in a while her emotions would spike with pain. When this would happen, she'd raise a bottle to her lips and gulp down a mouthful of what smelt like whiskey. With a grimace, she would wipe her mouth with the back of her hand, closing her eyes to the pain that slowly dulled. She had a few bottles around her, most of them empty, and rope. Between her gulps of whiskey, she would look at the rope longingly.

Jasper frowned. He had never encountered anyone, human or vampire, that had such strong emotions. But, anomaly or not, she was still a human, and he still needed to feed. So, in anticipation, he crouched, his body ready to spring onto her.

He was a vampire, silent and stealthy, able to take out prey before they even realize what is happened. Despite this fact, she turned her head suddenly, bottle dropping from her hand. Looking directly at him, she froze, listening for whatever her senses told her was there.

"Hello?" she called out, after a moment. "Is someone there?"

With a silent huff, Jasper was slightly annoyed to hear that there was no fear in her voice. _Is there anything normal about this human? _he wondered. Indecision filled his bones before he finally decided to confront her openly. Stepping out from hiding, he inclined his head. "Pardon me, miss. Didn't mean to scare you."

She merely gazed at him, and he still sensed no fear, even though her senses should have been screaming at her to run away from him. Seeming to find nothing dangerous about him, she smiled. "Oh, you didn't scare me. But what are you doing on my family's property this late at night?"

He shrugged. "Just passing through. If you don't mind my asking, miss, why are you out here alone this late at night? There are deadly things that wander through these parts."

She looked up at him again and sighed, motioning for him to sit by her. After a moment's hesitation, he sat on a nearby rock, a few feet away from her. When she didn't answer, he tested her emotions. What he found was sadness, pure and simple, as deep as the night sky above them, blended with confusion. So he waited for her reply, sensing that she was deciding whether or not to release her emotional burden on a stranger, unaware that he already carried it.

Wincing in pain, clutching at her chest this time, she took another slug of her whiskey. Once the pain passed, she sighed in relief. She looked at the rope that lay next to her again, her eyes filled with a strong desire. "I want to die."

For a moment, Jasper was taken by surprise. He knew for a fact that humans were built with a inborn desire to continue living, built with survival mechanisms that kept them from dying. But what surprised him more was his response. Maybe he had stopped thinking or maybe her emotions were affecting him more than he expected, two things that he believed were equally impossible. "I've been there myself more than a few times. I go back every once in a while."

She looked at him then, not really able to see him but still sensing a kindred spirit. She smiled then, ruefully. "You're lucky. I haven't been able to escape this desire since-"

A spike of pain filled his senses then, and he watched emotionlessly as she clutched her arms around herself, as if she were holding herself together, body curled. Once the wave of pain washed away from her, she sat up straight, wheezing. Once she caught her breath, she dashed the tears that involuntarily appeared at her eyes with a harsh swipe of her hands.

"It's gotten worse this...this sickness." she began quietly, almost as if she were talking to herself. "My family doesn't have much money, so when we had enough to spare a few years back, my parents called a doctor. He told us as much as we already know: he doesn't know what's wrong with me. We didn't have enough for testing, so I just sent the doctor on his way.

I drink," here she gestured at the bottles that surrounded her, "for the pain."

Jasper didn't reply, didn't acknowledge her story. At the moment, he was completely focused on her labored breathing, how it caused her heart to beat faster. She may have been an interesting human, but ultimately she would be his meal. It was an added benefit that she was willing to die, especially since he could sense her emotions so strongly.

In the silence, she turned her face up to the sky and sighed dreamily at the sight. "Tonight is a wonderful night to die."

That shook his focus, and he truly looked at her. He tested her emotions, but all they gave away was her satisfaction as she gazed at the sky. Once again, he spoke without volition. "How can you tell?"

She looked at him, smiling. "Just look at the sky, look at all those stars."

Jasper turned to the sky, but there was nothing different that he noticed about the stars, no explanation to her odd statement. He must've been projecting his emotions, for she sensed his confusion and answered his unspoken question. "Look at how goddamn ugly the stars are."

He smirked at this, his eyes still turned to the sky as she continued to speak. "There's no beauty in the world anymore. Nighttime is the only time I get any comfort, and that's because I am left alone, silence finally surrounding me. Every night that I sleep, I pray that I don't wake. But so far, it hasn't happened. The daylight burns me with its mockery; every sunrise that I see is enough to kill me."

There was an odd sensation of light filling him, and it showed in Jasper's response. "The daylight burns you and the sunrise is enough to kill you? Maybe you're a vampire."

At this, she laughed, but the sound was harsh. "It's quite possible...I feel truly dead inside."

Jasper closed his eyes and he silently agreed with her; being a vampire made one feel dead inside. With this realization, Jasper opened his eyes and stood. With a moment much too inhuman for her to be comfortable with, he made his way to her, holding his hand out to her.

Confusion filled her eyes, but she took his hand and he raised her, lifting her to a standing position. "Miss," he drawled, dazzling her with as much charm as he could muster, "if I could offer you a way out, would you take it?"

She gazed into his eyes and gasped, seeing the blood-red pupils in the dim light from the half moon. After a moment, she nodded. "Yes," she whispered.

Nodding in appreciation, he began to circle her in a predatory manner, watching her reaction, relishing in the feel of her brave emotions. "I can't smell the sickness in you quite yet, but I can tell you're having trouble breathing. And judging by the way you've been crumpling in pain, I can tell you now that you'll never be okay. You'll always be in pain, you'll always feel this way.

But, seeing how you were preparing to kill yourself tonight," he smiled as she confirmed his guess by glancing at the rope and bottles, "you already know this."

Stopping in front of her, he stepped closer to her, pulling her body against his. "I can take you away from all the pain," he purred, tilting her head so that he could nuzzle her jugular with his nose. "I can make it all go away."

She shuddered then, but not out of fear. She looked into his eyes again and asked, "What will happen to me? Will I become like you?"

He forced a smile, knowing she knew what he was, sealing her fate even more. "No. I have never been able to damn a human to this life...no, this death that rots one inside out. I will merely make your wish come true. You will die."

She smiled, tears of relief filling her eyes. "I...I don't even know what your name is."

He tilted her head again, the hunger beginning to ignite him from within. "My name is Jasper." Without waiting for a response, he impatiently bit into her neck, his bloodlust having reached a point it never had before, for he never had denied himself for so long.

He felt her chest heave as she took a sharp intake of breath in shock, and then felt her slump, allowing him to carry her full weight. As he drank more of her blood, knowing her end would be soon, he felt soft, warm lips press against his neck and a weakened whisper: "Thank you, Jasper."

Long after her blood was gone, long after her body cooled, he held her in his arms, his lips pressed against her neck. Finally he let her go, her emotions finally fading from him. Gently he placed her on the ground, his body feeling void and empty. He gazed up at the sky, at the stars that were beginning to fade as dawn began to appear, finally seeing how goddamn ugly the stars were. Compared to her final emotions, emotions of pure love and happiness, those stars shed no light. He had never felt such emotions...and never imagined anyone could feel them for him, especially while he was doing such a horrid deed. He didn't even know what her name had been.

For the first time since he was changed, Jasper felt like crying.

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><p>That had been Jasper's first encounter with her, and the only time he would take her life away. It was also the only time she truly wanted death. Maybe that was the way fate had planned it; for surely he wasn't quite ready for her, just as she wasn't in the right mindset for him. Or maybe they both had made wrong choices, had wrong viewpoints, seeing only the ugliness of the world when there was still a chance of hope and beauty.<p>

Either way, right or wrong, that chance meeting was all it took for his future to alter. He had sampled love, tasted it against his skin, and his hunger for it would grow, even to the point of overpowering his bloodlust. And this hunger would prepare him for his next encounter with her, far from his war filled life.

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><p><strong>This chapter was based on the song "Trouble Breathing" by Alkaline Trio.<strong>

**So I updated this story really quickly. But don't expect me to update it this quickly all the time...I only did it cause the prologue was so stinkin short. Anyway...thanks to the few people who have added my story to their alerts. It's nice to know there is interest. :) **

**I'm slightly uncertain about this story. I've taken some artistic license and changed the timeline that Twilight follows. Did anyone know that Jasper was with Maria for about 80 years? That's craziness. I'll try to follow the basic idea of the timeline, but seriously...it seems wrong to me that Jasper was with Maria for so long.**

**If anyone has any questions or comments, reviews, PMs, anonymousness...I'll be glad to reply! :D**

**I do not own Twilight or any Alkaline Trio songs. But I definitely appreciate it all.**


	3. Chapter 2: Someone You'd Admire

**Chapter Two: Someone You'd Admire**

They say that a vampire's brain is perfect, works at full capacity. This allows them to remember and learn at superhuman speeds. But one thing is always overlooked when explanations are given regarding the semantics of a vampire's brain. When a vampire goes through the change, the venom burns the humanity from their souls, leaving behind only their instincts. Which is why, when they are born, their perfect brains are turned only towards one thing: survival.

If their sires focus their newborn minds on ways of humanity, then they themselves slowly gain their humanity back. They are able to live among humans, camouflaging their true nature until they can no longer hold back the bloodlust and they hunt unsuspecting humans in secluded areas. When their minds are focused as such, their memory is more fine-tuned, for in order to obtain their source of food, they must draw the humans in, entice them. The better they are at speaking different languages, playing instruments, reading body-language, etc., the more interested and unsuspecting their prey will be. They must remember what humans like, what they are interested in, so that they can ensnare them and lead them to their deaths.

But, if a vampire is raised with their focus on merely sating the beasts that reside within them, their memory is weaker. The humans blend together, the days pass in blurs. What happened years ago may seem like only seconds has passed, and what happened only a day ago may feel like a century ago. They feed when they want, merely snatching their away prey in the middle of the night. These vampires are purely instinct, and only those who have found mates or covens that accept and love them find the humanity that had been taken from them.

Which is why Jasper forgot her so easily. Her blood faded in the blood of others, the significance of that night repressed to protect his mind from the guilt of destroying the one person that would accept and love him for what he was. His mind distracted him from the regret, focusing only on the fact that he could _feel_ the pain of those he now fed from, that he too suffered the fear and panic of the weak newborns that he killed.

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><p>Maria had changed, now that there was nothing between her and ultimate power. She had no room in her heart for someone to love since her mate had died long ago, and she no longer trusted anyone, not since her sisters had betrayed her. She was all alone. And in her loneliness, she sought security. She sought for the right to feed wherever she wanted, and so she and her army took over territory after territory. She was a leader, first and foremost. Her heart hardened, as a true leader's heart must, and she led them to countless victories.<p>

In her quest to claim all the territory she could, she had no room for weakness, and did not want weakness in her army. So she ordered her second-in-command to kill the newborns that were weak, to kill those who weren't born with a gift once a year had passed. In that way, she kept her army strong, kept them aware of her power over them, and banished any ideas of rebellion.

But, when she made that order, she watched her second-in-command falter slightly, saw how there was a moment of hesitation before he made a kill. He was weakening, now that he could sense emotions of others, and there was no room for that. But he was also a leader, and there were those in her army that only followed her because of him. That their fealty was to Jasper, not her. And so she kept a close eye on her second-in-command and those that were faithful to him, always making sure that he never had more support than she did.

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><p><em><strong>1911, Mexico<strong>_

Jasper was sinking into a depression none could pull him from. Peter was the only one who tried. Everyday Peter came to him with a smile on his face, telling him reports of newborns with amazing gifts, of those who would survive and those that wouldn't.

But then, one day, Peter came to him with a different smile on his face. And when he spoke of the newborns, his tone changed when he spoke of one named Charlotte, his eyes taking on a far-away glaze. Jasper could feel the love Peter felt for this newborn, could practically taste it on his lips. But this...Charlotte was not gifted in any way. And they both knew that she would be destroyed within a year.

When that year came, Peter and Charlotte ran. Ran from the destruction that Jasper was ordered to give them. But, feeling the overwhelming love that flowed from both of them as they whispered their vows of eternal love in the face of death, he slowed in his pursuit and let them escape. And when he returned, he went straight to his quarters and flooded it with so much pain and depression that any who entered were pulled under. And the darkness they were dragged to was so deep that they were unable to return to their former selves. Many pulled themselves apart, crazed with grief, and flung their parts into the nearest fire.

He refused to hunt, refused to lead, refused to leave. He stayed in his quarters, seeing nothing but the blackness of his heart. It got to the point that Maria had to personally see him, to try and shake some sense into him. Flanked by some of her most gifted newborns, she stopped at the entrance of his tent. "Jasper."

At the sound of his leader, Jasper turned his gaze to the entrance, his eyes black with hunger, but filled with regret and pain. Seeing his commander wave her hand at him, a gesture that motioned for him to pull it together, he immediately brought his powers under control, sealing the emotions that he had been projecting back into his heart.

With a slow, steady step into his quarters, Maria looked down to where he was sitting on the floor. "You are my second-in-command, Jasper. You of all people know that I cannot have weakness within my army. If you do not return to your station, I will personally end your life. Do you understand?"

With a whispering croak, voice dried from lack of nourishment, Jasper replied, "Yes, ma'am. I understand."

Nodding at him curtly, she turned to the newborns that she had brought. At her silent order, they brought a unconscious man into the tent and promptly left. The moment he saw and smelt the human, Jasper's attention zeroed in on the man, watching the newborns carry him in with a stilled intensity. But he did not move from his place on the ground. His hands dug into the dirt, fingers aching to sink into the flesh and feel the blood drip down his arms as he bit and fed with an unnatural relish.

Frowning at him, realizing that he had held his breath so as not to smell the delectable scent of the human, Maria's mouth pulled down in distaste. "Jasper, you must eat. It has been too long, and you are already weakened."

At this, Jasper's eyes darkened, but he made no motion to move when Maria gestured for him to eat. With an exasperated sigh, Maria turned to leave. But just before she left, she bent down and dragged her nails through the flesh of the human, filling the air with blood. Before she took another step, Jasper was already on the human, drinking down the blood with loud, greedy gulps. As she exited the tent, she glanced at the feeding Jasper, unhappily noticing the guilt and hurt in his eyes. _His ability to feel emotions is weakening him_, she thought. _He is letting the weakness of others fill him. This cannot continue._

Meanwhile, through the bloodlust faze in his mind, Jasper sensed an emotion he had felt before coming from Maria. It was the emotions he had sensed from Lucy and Nettie, just as they were about to betray Maria. He knew that he had lost favor in her eyes and that she was going to try to kill him. And there was no escaping death; he would not be able to run, for she would chase him down. The only way was to face death head-on, to fight it for as long as he could.

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><p>Maria and Jasper spent the next few years circling each other, creating a cold war with their unspoken threats and veiled intimidation. The newborns were split between the two: they followed the one they thought was stronger. Maria was strong because she was the ultimate leader, controlling and ordering all under her. But Jasper was strong because he never lost a fight, and the scars that his body was riddled in was proof of it.<p>

Neither were able to destroy the other in plain daylight, for if that happened, those who followed the slain would seek revenge. And, to vampires, revenge was something to be feared. For they would never give up until vengeance was theirs.

So they pretended to be on good terms with each other, Jasper following every order she gave, even though most were suicide missions, missions he wasn't meant to return from. He merely bowed his head to her when he left, and returned with a grim smile, letting her know that she failed in killing him once again. He was merely biding his time, letting his forces grow, waiting for his moment.

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><p>Jasper was tired. More tired than he had ever felt before. After all that had been said and done, he still felt the same. He was depressed, more so than he had ever felt before. He had hoped that, with this stand-still against Maria, his mind would be focused on surviving against her desire to destroy him, return him to the beast he had once been. The beast that had savored in the sensation of being covered in another's venom. The beast that had smelt the smoke of burning vampires as if it were incense, filling him with peace. But that hard-hearted person was gone, replaced with a weakened person that <em>cared.<em>

He felt as if he were lost in some dark, foreign world, a moon-lit exile huddled on the shore. Felt as if he had been searching for a thousands years, looking for something to warm his heart. He was far, far away from what he had once been, but he still felt like a monster. Every time he killed a human, every time he ended a newborn's life, he felt more monstrous than the beast he had once been. He was different, and yet he was so very much the same.

He would wander through the camp, feeling the emotions of the newborns that surrounded him. Like him, they too were yearning for change. Some were yearning to get out, which is why they were loyal to him, wanting to be someone he'd admire and take with him when he finally left Maria. While others wanted to claw through his skin, gnash their teeth at him and shout their anger at him, anger at his weakness and disloyalty to Maria. These would just as soon throw him on the fire, if Maria ever allowed them to. All it took was a walk through the camp for him to know who supported him and who were against him.

Finally, one day, he felt it. He felt that his supporters and opposers were dead even, both in number and in strength. With a close of his eyes, he sighed in relief. _The time has come_, he thought, and when he opened his eyes, determination filled his gaze. He knew he was going to die, for that was what he sought. But he was going to die like a true soldier: in a glorious, vicious battle.

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><p>In his quarters, late that night, Jasper strategized. He pondered on how he would provoke Maria and her followers, and where the ensuing battle would take place. The emptiness in his heart and soul made him close his eyes for a moment, taking that moment to build up his courage and belief that the course he chose was the only one he could take.<p>

But, another's emotions filled him, anxious and excited emotions. When he recognized the owners of these emotions, his eyes flew open. Before him, with that same, confident smile, stood Peter, the excited emotions overflowing from him. And, tucked safely behind him, a nervous smile on her lips, was Charlotte.

"This is your chance, brother," Peter said, rocking on the balls of his feet. "I'm breaking you out of this place, freeing you from this hellish world."

At this, Jasper shook his head. "No. I am going to die tomorrow."

"Which is why we're here," Charlotte said softly, eyes flickering to Peter's for assurance.

Nodding his agreement, Peter said, "You don't need to live this way anymore, Jasper. You can live a life free from killing innocents. Me and Charlotte have been living that way since we left. We only feed from those who do vile things, criminals and thieves. It's a life freed from guilt and regret, brother! You don't need to die."

Feeling the truth in Peter's words, Jaspers determination wavered. So he turned his back to them and said, "Maria...she won't let me go. She'd have me hunted down and killed. If I am going to live this so called guilt-free life, I don't want to live it on the run."

At Jasper's words, Charlotte left Peter's side and took Jasper's hand in hers. In shock, Jasper looked down at her hand, the first comforting, physical contact he had in what seemed like eons. He turned his gaze to hers, feeling her courage and bravery fill him. "She won't be able to follow us, not for a while." she said softly. "She'll be too busy making sure that those who follow you are either dead or are loyal to her. And by the time she has completed that, any trace of us will be long gone."

Jasper saw the truth in her words, knew that she was right. But he still took a moment to think about it, to probe her reasoning for any loopholes or traps. Peter took this moment as an agreement from Jasper, and he gleefully made his way to Jasper, slinging his arm over Jasper's shoulder. "You won't regret this, brother. Trust me."

And, feeling the love and happiness from the two surround him, love and happiness that filled his mind with the scent of apples, he realized that he did trust Peter and Charlotte. So they left, disappearing from Maria's camp, into another life and another world.

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><p><em><strong>1917, Illinois<strong>_

Jasper was all alone again. Peter and Charlotte had encouraged him to stay with them, but he could not bring himself to. He was still a monster, after all. They had been right; killing criminals and thieves didn't make him feel so guilty afterwards. But there was still guilt, for, when he fed from them, his mouth filled with as much fear and pain as it did with blood. He was still taking another person's life, making their final moments on earth the most horrendous moments they ever lived.

He didn't want to make Peter and Charlotte deal with his mental and emotional instability. They had saved him from Maria's world, something that he loved them dearly for. That was why he did not want to make them suffer along with him. So he left, wandering around Northern America mindlessly.

He finally found a semblance of a home somewhere in central Illinois, a place of large farmland and few people. He found an abandoned farmhouse with a large apple tree in the front yard, and he spent a few months there, not once bothered by a human being. He spent his nights sating his beast in nearby cities, returning home at dawn with his head hanging, heart heavy. His days he spent on an old rocking chair on the porch, staring at the apple tree, wondering why its scent filled him with such peace, freeing him momentarily from night's guilt.

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><p>When the world was focused on fighting itself, disease and war filling its inhabitants, he would encounter her again. She would enter his life, filling it momentarily with humanity, giving him an opportunity to realize that she was the one fate destined for him. But his eyes would be blinded by his guilt, as they would be for the next several decades, and he would miss his chance.<p>

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><p><strong>This chapter was inspired by the song "Someone You'd Admire" by Fleet Foxes.<strong>

**Well, another chapter is up and running! Thanks to everyone that is following and liking this story! It means a lot to me. You guys are the best.**

**I would just like to mention that the reason this story is starting in the past instead of the present is because I wanted the readers to see how Jasper evolves into the vampire that we all know and love. Because, while my Jasper is going to end up like the Jasper in the Twilight series, he does not start the same way, nor does he follow the same exact path. I wanted to show how fate kept putting Bella's past selves in his path, and how each encounter changes him, makes him ready for the life he is going to have with the Cullens. And I didn't want to have like, a billion flashbacks...especially since Jasper isn't technically supposed to really remember his encounters with her. So...yeah.**

**Anyway, please read and review! To all those who have, it is very much appreciated.**

**I do not own Twilight or any Fleet Foxes songs. Both very awesome, btw.**


	4. Chapter 3: Fade and Then Return

**Chapter Three: Fade and Then Return (The Gulag Orkestar)**

Mouth pulled down in undeniable sorrow, Jasper let the corpse drop to the ground, empty of the sustenance he had drawn from it with deep, greedy gulps. The cold air wailed mournfully against him, completely unnoticed, as he stood silently in an alleyway in a city whose name he did not care to learn. He turned his aching red eyes to the sky, contempt filling his heart when he discovered it to be clear and calm, the stars twinkling lazily. _There should be rain_, he thought to himself as turned his focus onto the next unsuspecting human, in the hopes that his hunger might leave him be for a couple days. _There should be rain to go along with all this sorrow._

With a sigh, he tried to shake the shroud of gloom that had settled heavily upon him, but he knew it was impossible. It was his constant companion, this misery, this loneliness. Yes, he had chosen this path, chosen to endure his feelings of hopelessness alone. But he still had not adjusted to it. There was a gaping emptiness inside of him, something that blood and violence and terror could not fill, no matter how much it tried to. He was unable to ignore the howling pain of his heart, the way it seemed to shrink and shriek every time he took a human's life. But he had to feed. He was a vampire; his focus was survival. What was the point of being able to live forever if one ended it willingly?

So, with a heavy heart, he took a deep breath of the night air, scenting two slightly drunken human stumbling out of a bar just a few blocks away, bellowing and singing loudly to each other. _They call it night, _he mused, listening to their words as he forged a path that would intersect with theirs. _And I call it mine._

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><p><em><strong>August 1918, Illinois<strong>_

He stumbled home as the sun began to appear on the horizon, feeling strangely lethargic. He was a vampire, so these ungraceful movements did not come to him naturally. But it was somehow comforting to him, moving in a way that was so very human. Chuckling mirthlessly at his thoughts, Jasper made his way into the empty home, heading straight for the bathroom.

He stopped and stood in front of the mirror over the sink, the only decoration he had in the entire house. It was an old one he had found as he wandered through back alleys, slightly cracked, silver peeling. He took it home with him when he had seen his reflection in it, when he saw what he looked like.

As he stood in front of it, gazing at himself, life seemed to seep out of him. He became a statue, frozen at the sight. The air around him began to shimmer with the tension, his shroud of gloom almost tangible. The longer he stood there, unmoving, the darker the atmosphere became, until even he could no longer stand it. All that tension within him snapped, and he raced out of the bathroom, unable to face what was reflected to him. For countless hours he sat on the porch, either rocking gently on his rocking chair or sprawled on the steps, until his thirst demanded that he satiate it. Always his gaze was turned towards the apple tree front of the house, drawing solace from its presence, from its ability to usher him away from the monster that he saw in the mirror.

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><p>He remembered seeing himself in the reflection of a still pool of water during his newborn year. Beautiful. Perfect. His hair was blonde, slightly curled with a carefree, tousled look, as if he had been standing in the wind for hours. His jaw was strong, nose straight and noble, cheek bones pronounced. Everything about him was designed to draw humans in, and when he had first realized this, it made him shiver with pleasure. His perfection was a monstrosity.<p>

He thought it would change eventually. That the life he led would've changed his appearance. But after all these years, he still looked the same, aside from the scars. It appeared his body was trapped at the age he had turned, forever frozen at nineteen. No matter what he went through, no matter what he did, he would appear to be that age. He felt older, definitely much wiser, but when he looked at the mirror, all he saw was a boy.

Even after decades of fighting and bloodshed, after decades of killing vampires and humans alike without a shred of remorse, even after those years of the deepest desolation, his appearance was void of it. Aside from the scars, he was void of such a brutal life. He was a living, breathing Dorian Gray. And so he stared at himself, stared at the mirror, waiting for curse to break and reveal the true monster instead of the boy he once was.

But it was not a curse. It was his life, it was what he was. And as this truth filled him, he would leave, fade from the mirror. Only to return after a night of hunting, to see if he looked at monstrous as he felt.

* * *

><p>Finally filled with a semblance of peace, Jasper scowled at the torrential rain that poured from the heavens. <em>It seems my emotions have no affect on the weather,<em> he thought to himself as he closed his eyes, focusing on the melody of the rainstorm.

Then, a sound at his gate caused his eyes to fly open and turn his surprised gaze to the noise. There, soaking wet and sobbing, was a little girl, who held onto the gate as if it meant her life. She was sickly looking, her skin pale and body thin. He was slightly shocked that he had not heard her coming; but the rain was falling in sheets and she had approached his home from downwind, so he shrugged it off and waited to see what she would do.

"M-mister?" she called out, her exhaustion filling his bones. "Is it alright if I stand on your porch until the rain stops?"

He took a moment to think and was about to deny her when her knees buckled and she collapsed to the ground with a gasp. Taking a deep breath of air, so that he would not need to smell her and be tempted, though he never did have a penchant for the slightly sour blood of young ones, he nodded. "Sure."

Her relief filled the air as she opened the gate and began walking towards him. Right before she got to the steps, though, her feet slipped and she fell gracelessly to the ground. She was unharmed, but she was too tired to get back up, so she crawled the remaining distance to him. Shivering, she sat delicately on the top step, only to feel a large jacket settle onto her shoulders. Realizing it was his, she turning her thankful gaze to him. "Thank you very much."

When the shivering subsided, though she was still cold, she glanced back at the man that had offered his porch to her. She frowned, taking in his disheveled appearance, his blonde hair and pale, pale skin. He seemed familiar to her, as if she knew him, for when she looked at him she was filled with an odd sensation of love and happiness. It was as if she knew his name once, but it seemed to escape her now. A memory she once held that would fade, only to return once she was away from him.

"Excuse me, mister," she began, and apprehension filled his bones for he had felt her scrutinize him, "are you related to Dr. Carlisle? You look an awful lot like him."

He shook his head in response to her, and disappointment colored her emotions. But, as she began to think about Dr. Carlisle, her heart warmed considerably. "Dr. Carlisle's got the same yellow hair that you got, and his skin's the same color too. He's not sick though. Not like me. I'm sick all the time, which is why my parents and I moved out here to the country. Dr. Carlisle said the clean air would be good for me, and it's a good place for me to walk around when I feel okay. He comes and visits me every other week, or when my parent's call him if I'm feeling real terrible. Mama says it's real kind of him, since he lives over in the next city, which is real far away from here. She also says his eyes are golden. What color are your eyes, mister?"

He frowned slightly at this, turning away from her, not wanting her to see his red eyes and ask questions about them. Misunderstanding, the girl smiled. "Aw, don't be shy, mister. I only ask cause I'm color blind. Dr. Carlisle says it's the most severe case he's ever seen."

He smiled slightly at the pride she seemed to have at such a rare condition. "My eyes are green," he said, lying for both his sake and hers.

She nodded at this, turning her gaze to the apple tree in the front yard. With a yawn, she propped her chin on her hand, elbow rested against her knees. Her eyes began to close slowly, and she mumbled, "They must be awful pretty."

He turned his gaze from the apple tree to her, and his heart seemed to swell at the strong emotions of peace that filled her. They sat there in silence for a long time, and all the while he held onto air like a bouquet of baby's breath, afraid that if he breathed in her scent, it would drive him to bloodlust. _Should I know you?_ He wondered as he glanced at her, taking in her lack of fear and strong emotions. _A stranger though you seem, you feel like home._

But he shook the thoughts off, turning his gaze back to the apple tree, letting her peace wash over him like a gentle wave of the sea. Suddenly, the air filled with the sound of her coughing, and she woke with a start, her body shaking with the strength of her wheezing. Concern filled him, a strange emotion, and he asked, "Are you okay?"

Nodding, the coughing subsiding to little gasps, she smiled at his question. "Oh, don't mind me, mister. This is normal. Dr. Carlisle says that I'm very...susceptible to colds and things like that."

He frowned at this. "So why were you walking around in rain? The nearest house from here isn't for miles."

Almost immediately, her face pulled down, unhappiness in her heart. "I'm tired of staying home, cooped up in bed. I just want to be like a normal kid. I want to go outside and play, rain or shine, without having someone watching me as if I were made of glass. So I snuck out and ran. But I ran too far and got lost. And I wandered my way here."

With a sigh, Jasper stood up. Taking a tentative breath in, finding her scent to be at the same time young and unappealing, he nodded in satisfaction. "Well, c'mon then. Let's bring you back home."

She looked at him in surprise. "Oh, you don't have to, mister. Once the rain stops, I'll find my way back home by myself. I'm used to that sort of thing."

He frowned at her and said, "Your parents must be worried. And the rain isn't going to stop until dusk. You'll get more sick wandering in the cold at night."

She took this in, letting his clearheaded thinking fill her mind. She looked up at him bashfully. "I guess you're right. But I don't want you going out of your way to help me. Mama would be upset if I did that to a stranger."

He smiled then, a small gentle one that caused the girl's emotions to be filled with joy. "Don't you worry 'bout me. You just make sure you stay strong and healthy so that you can go out in the rain whenever you want."

She smiled at him, glad to find an adult who seemed to understand exactly how she felt. At a gesture from him, she began to stand, only to have her knees buckle. She began to fall forward, off the steps, when strong, cold arms grasped her gently. With sure, steady movements, he pulled the jacket that hung over her shoulders tightly against her, wrapping her in its warmth. She felt herself being lifted, then, and he held her against his chest, safely cocooned in the comfort of his jacket. "Won't you need this jacket, mister? It's still raining awful hard."

"I'll be fine." With a gentle sniff, he followed her vague scent, slightly washed away by the rain.

After a moment of silence, a timid voice rose from the bundle he carried in his arms. "Hey, mister?"

"Hm?"

"Does your apple tree have any apples?"

"What month is it?"

"August."

"There should be fruit soon."

"Oh." After another moment of silence, this one filled with her nervousness, she finally blurted out, "When there's fruit, can I come visit you again? Dr. Carlisle says that apples are good for me, health-wise."

With a shrug, Jasper nodded. At this, the girl's emotions were filled with such love and happiness that Jasper stumbled slightly. He looked down at the little girl in his arms, her eyes closed and a smile on her face, and chuckled. He let her love and happiness surround him, let it flow through his soul and heart and being, filling him with the scent of apples and the sensation of home.

* * *

><p>When the sun had set and the stars began to appear, they finally reaching the end of her scent, at a small house a few miles away. There, Jasper stood at the gate, frozen. <em>Vampire<em>, he thought, his nostrils flaring, eyes narrowing as he took in the layers of the same vampire's scent. _A vampire has been here frequently._

It was territorial, this scent, screaming at him not to enter this vampire's territory. But he looked at the sleeping girl in his arms, and he squared his shoulders, easing his way through the gate. With slow, quiet steps he made his way to the house's porch, senses on high-alert for any sign of threat or danger. When he reached the porch, he placed the girl gently down and began removing his jacket from her. As he did so, she shifted, arms reaching for him, mumbling, "Jasper."

At his name, he stiffened, staring down at the girl. He hadn't told her his name, hadn't mentioned it once during their short time together. So, after a moment, he turned away, figuring it was a name of someone else that she knew. Knocking on the door, he sped away at vampire speed, heading back home, his jacket left behind and forgotten.

But, before he could leave hearing distance, he heard a woman cry out. "Marie! Oh, Marie, where have you been, you silly child!" With a sigh of relief, he pushed himself on, faster and faster until the world disappeared behind him.

* * *

><p>Marie opened her eyes, only to find the comforting face of Dr. Carlisle smiling down at her. "Well, Marie, you put your parents through quite an ordeal, haven't you?"<p>

She nodded, a blush of shame staining her cheeks. With a chuckle, Dr. Carlisle placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Now, don't be ashamed. It's understandable that you ran away. I know you don't want to leave your parents, but do you remember what I told you about this new flu that you have?"

"It's very contagious," she said softly, looking down at her hands.

"That's right," Dr. Carlisle said. "And we don't want your parents to catch it, too, right?"

She nodded at this, her mouth pulled down in a frown. Noticing this, Dr. Carlisle smiled softly. She smiled in return, but her attention was already shifting. "Dr. Carlisle, where did mister go?"

"Mister?" he said, frowning slightly as he began to put his instruments away. "Oh, you must mean the...person that brought you back home."

"Did you see him?" she asked, hope filling her gaze.

After a moment of silence, Dr. Carlisle responded, "No, but your mother mentioned that someone brought you home. I assumed it was one of your neighbors."

"Oh," she said, frowning. "He was very handsome and very kind. He even said I could go back and pick apples from his tree to eat!"

"That is a nice thing of him to say," Dr. Carlisle said. "He didn't...hurt you in any way, did he? Or do anything strange?"

"No," she said. "He was very quiet. And he sat real still. I think he just wasn't used to talking, though."

Nodding, Dr. Carlisle turned his golden gaze to her. Smiling, he said, "Well, you need to get better real quick so you can go pick those apples. You should get some rest. We have a long trip ahead of us in the morning."

With a wide smile, Marie nodded, settling into her bed. Within moments, her breaths slowed, and she was whisked away to another world, a familiar one, one filled with dreams of golden-haired strangers and starlight.

* * *

><p>The smile faded from his face as Dr. Carlisle gazed sadly at the little girl. With no sound at all, he grabbed his bag and made his way out of her room, closing the door behind her. In the next room over, her parents waited for his diagnosis.<p>

With a nod, Carlisle confirmed their worst nightmare. "It is as I feared," he said softly. "I did not expect this second strain to come so quickly."

With a sob, Marie's mother collapsed into the nearest chair. Glancing at her sadly, Marie's father turned his eyes to Carlisle. "Must you take her to Chicago?"

Carlisle nodded. "There is a hospital there that is taking in those with the illness. They are making a quarantine in the hopes to contain it. I will take her there and help them in whatever way I can."

"Is...is there any hope in her surviving?" Marie's mother asked fearfully.

Carlisle's mouth pulled down then. "There is no way of knowing. It seemed this strain is stronger than the one before it...I'm sorry, but you must prepare yourself for the event that she does not."

A suppressed wail filled the room, and Marie's father put arm around his wife, tears welling in his eyes. "Thank you, Dr. Cullen. We'll see you both off in the morning."

With a nod, Carlisle exited the house. He took a deep breath, his lungs filling with the scent of the strange vampire that had helped Marie. He turned his gaze in the direction that this vampire's scent came from, and, after a moment of hesitation, made his way into the forest. He had a long trip ahead of him and he did not know when next he'd be able to hunt.

* * *

><p>In the months that followed, the girl never returned to pick apples from his tree. Slowly, she faded from Jasper's memory, and he eventually left that empty house. Left to wander across the continent, never to return back to that lonely place. He did not search her out, did not go back to her home to see what became of her, his interest in the little human gone, faded to some recess in the back of his mind.<p>

The girl did not return because she was no longer alive. The Spanish Influenza took the lives of millions, hers included. She was weak against illnesses, easily catching them, which was why she was one of the first to catch that horrid disease. But, even as she lay on her deathbed in a hospital far from home, she still smiled at Dr. Carlisle, telling him not to worry about her, that she would be better by tomorrow and would be able to pick apples from mister's tree. She was the one who, with a smile, pointed to a bronze-haired boy nearby, telling Dr. Carlisle that he needed his help more, since he no longer had any parents. All the while she held onto a large jacket, the way one would hold onto the comfort of a childhood toy or blanket. She died the next day.

* * *

><p>This was their second meeting, far from the world of Maria and Texas. But, somehow, it was still the same. He had the ability to take her from her death, take her from the illnesses that threatened her life. But he did not. He was kinder this time, probably due to the fact that her blood was too young for his taste, and helped her once again, only this time to see another day instead of taking it all away. He drew comfort from her presence for a short while, and then denied himself it, banishing her from his thoughts.<p>

And she, she refused to see him as the monster he felt he was. Instead, she saw him as he truly was, kind, strong and quiet. She saw what he refused to see, saw past the boy and saw the man he was. With a childish innocence, she loved him easily, her heart filling with happiness in his presence. But, he did not see her, did not see what she offered him. So she faded from the earth.

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><p><strong>This story was based on the songs "Fade and Return" by William Fitzsimmons and "The Gulag Orkestar" by Beirut. Originally, it was only supposed to be "Fade and Return" but when I heard "The Gulag Orkestar" it just filled my mind with the scene this chapter opened with. It's so mournful and steady. It's really quite perfect.<strong>

**Well, another chapter. I'm not quite happy with it. It's seems kind of in a different tone than my other chapters, but oh well. Jasper's evolving, so the tone is evolving also? I don't know. I keep trying to go back and change it, but am completely unable to. Oddly. Anyway, I hope you guys like it! Please read and review; this chapter has left me slightly on edge due to its...outcome, so I'd love to hear what you guys think about it. :)**

**I do not own Twilight, any William Fitzsimmons songs or any Beirut songs. But seriously, Beirut. I love them. Hahah.**


	5. Chapter 4: Winter Bones

**Chapter Four: Winter Bones**

America was supposed to be the land of opportunity, a land of freedom and hope. But, during the Great Depression, it was a different place. Even without the ability to sense emotions, one could see the sorrow and hopelessness that seemed to hang in the air. People were alive, but they weren't living. They were focused solely on getting through the day, greeting the night with a sort of helpless dread, for though it signaled an end, it only meant another beginning. It was all they knew, and they spent every day that way. Waiting for their day to end, so that they could begin another.

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><p><em><strong>1933, New York<strong>_

Jasper was dying. He had come to New York, figuring that he could feed with ease, since there were so many homeless people that wouldn't be missed. But what he hadn't counted on was the emotional storm that hung over the city. New York was a sea of people, and for the first time, the sea was helpless. So many people were suffering, so many people were searching for a means of living, only to find that there was nothing. Children were starving and their parents could do nothing but scrimp and scramble for what little food they could find. But it was never enough. There was never enough. No one voiced their sorrow, their suffering, but to Jasper, it was as if the entire crowd of people were screaming it at the top of their lungs. It was so loud and clear to him.

The first time he fed in New York, he was filled with a sick feeling in his stomach. For he had happened upon a homeless person that was all alone in a dark, damp alley. And, when he bit into the person's neck, at first, he had felt their agony and shock. But then it turned into a sick sort of relief and glee, for the person was glad to die, their emotions twisted and wrong. For hours afterwards, Jasper lay in that cold alley, his body shaking and trembling with the relief and glee, and he felt nauseous and feverish from it. It felt like he was sick, which was impossible, since he was a vampire. But the sensation lingered, much too long for his liking. He tried again, feeding on another person many blocks away, but it was the same. Only this time, his stomach could no longer take it, and he dry-heaved for an hour. He never tried to feed again after that.

He went to leave the city. Countless times, he made an attempt. But every time he did, he was pulled down by the barrage of emotions that surrounded him. If it were different emotions, emotions of both joy and sorrow, maybe he would've been able to leave, for such a mixture was something he was used to. But there was a uniform emotion that stemmed from everyone around him. And it was heavy and heartbreaking, pulling him back down to the ground. He was trapped.

* * *

><p>Jasper sat on a bench in the park, pulling his jacket tighter around him. For the first time in decades, he felt cold and weak. He could feel how black his eyes were, bleak and tired with hunger, but he made no attempt to feed from the humans that wandered around him. For the first time, he felt like dying. He felt like giving up on life, like so many people around him. Like those around him, he felt alone when he was awake. And he was always awake. There was no hope in the air. Not a single breath of vitality.<p>

So, he sat, content to just wither away and die. In the back of his mind, he worried that the emotions of those two that he fed from had twisted his own mind, made him feel as if death were a normal thing to long for. But the rest of his mind was too hazy and bleak to focus on such level-headed thinking, so it went unnoticed. He felt so downhearted that he couldn't even be thankful for the cloudy, overcast weather that allowed him to sit outside during the day. His mind wouldn't focus. He couldn't focus.

It felt as if he were drifting. _Is this what dreaming is like?_ He wondered to himself, as his mind wandered away from him, numb and distant.

People passed, hunkered down beneath their own jackets, unconsciously giving him a wide berth, avoiding eye contact with him. He merely watched them, his eyesight drowning in sorrow, not noticing how their hearts beat faster at the sight of him, the glazed longing in their eyes as they unknowingly reacted to the deadly predator. He was too focused on the winter that seemed to live in his bones, aching and bitterly cold. It was painful, yet familiar, as if he had lived with it his whole life and only now realized that it existed within him. As if it was all he'd ever known.

But then, a sensation like a shot of sunlight hit him, and he burned at the feeling. It was almost painful, but it felt too good to be anything but brilliant. He felt it seep into him, chasing away the chill in his bones. He gasped slightly, as if he had stopped breathing for a long while, and he glanced to where this feeling was coming from. His nostrils flared as his senses were flooded with the scent of apples, filling him with that wondrous sensation of home.

There, walking towards him, was a woman. She walked briskly, face turned down in trained submission as she made her way to her destination. Dressed in the simple and sturdy dress of a maid, she carried a basket full of groceries, which included a large quantity of apples. He watched her carefully, soaking in her emotions of happiness and peace, emotions he almost had forgotten existed in the world.

He made no movement as she got closer, simply basking in the glow of her feelings, but she looked up suddenly, as if someone had called her name. Locking eyes with him, she blinked quickly, as if she recognized him but couldn't find his name, a smile spreading on her lips. Still he did not move, but he felt a small, responding smile grow on his face, unable to react after so many months of sorrow and pain. She made her way to him, her hand disappearing into her basket, and when she got close enough, she stretched out her arm, apple in hand.

"Here you go, sir," she said, voice low and cheerful.

He tilted his head slightly at the offering, but he shook his head 'no' in response, the apple nowhere near as appealing as the emotions that filled her and in turn filled him.

"No? But don't you know an apple a day keeps the doctor away? It looks like you're on the verge of being sick yourself." Thinking that maybe he was refusing due to pride, she quickly said, "Don't think of it as charity; think of it as an investment. The world needs healthy men more than it needs prideful men."

His mouth turned up at the corners at the small jab she had sent his way and he watched as the slight shame she had felt at her own words disappear once she saw his reaction. Slowly, he removed a large pale hand from the folds of his jacket as he reached out and gently took the apple from her hand, a quiet, "Thank you," escaping his lips.

She smiled then, and the brightness of her emotions stunned him for a moment. All at once, the winter that existed in his bones, all the sorrow and despair that had filled him to the brim was gone. He felt his desire to live, to survive, burst inside of him like a fire. He turned his gaze to her quickly, his eyes seeking to find what it was that made this innocent human blanket over the emotions of the rest of the city. But she simply inclined her head to him, her ankles crossing as she bobbed, a common motion of maids, and she turned and walked away.

He sat still, still as death, as he watched her fade into the distance, apple still clutched tightly in his hand. After what seemed like an eternity, he stood, and though he still felt slightly weakened, his stance was sturdy and sure. He no longer felt like he was drowning in a sea of sorrow. Her happiness and love filled him with a strength he had forgotten, and he knew he would be able to leave this city. Leave this city once and for all. Eyes still turned to where she had disappeared off to, he took a bite of the apple, the juices of it spreading in his mouth unpleasantly, and he began to walk.

* * *

><p>She smiled to herself, thinking back to the handsome stranger that she had encountered during her errands. She didn't know why she had been moved to offer him an apple; it had just seem right and had filled her with an odd sort of happiness. Almost as if giving him that apple was like an inside joke. At first, he had seemed so sad, but then a fire had lit behind his eyes. Too bad she hadn't been able to stay and chat with him, but she would've gotten into so much trouble if she had dallied.<p>

As her thoughts turned to the amount of trouble she would get into, her steps quickened and she focused on her surroundings. Which is when she heard sure footsteps closely behind her, matching her pace. She felt the trickle of dread bead at the nape of her neck and slowly drip down her spine as she realized someone was following her.

Carefully, she glanced over her shoulder, and the sensation of fear tripled as her eyes locked with the man behind her. Quickly, she turned her head, lengthening her stride and quickening her pace, hoping without hope that he would just leave her alone.

But it seems there was no one to hear her silent wish, for a voice called out, deceptively smooth and warm. "Lisbeth!"

At the sound of his lips forming her name, she shivered, her stomach twisting unhappily at the tone, and she stopped and turned. Eyes downcast, head bowed respectfully, she bobbed as he approached her. "Hello, Mr. King."

She could not see him, nor did she dare turn her eyes up to glance at him, but she could feel him stepping closer to her, the warmth of his body sending shivers of disgust throughout her. She could hear the smirk in his voice, could practically picture his blue eyes squinting in amusement as he said, "Now, Lisbeth. What have I told you? Mr. King is my father. You may call me Royce."

Feeling his fingers playing with the tips of her hair, she instantly regretted letting it loose for a semblance of warmth against the chill winter air. Fighting to hide the repulsion in her tone, she said, "Of course...Royce."

"There," he said, sliding a finger down her temple to her chin, and with too-rough pressure forced her bowing head up so that he could look at her face. Seeing the fight that danced within the shadows of her eyes, he smiled. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Forcing a small smile, Lisbeth carefully took a step back. "I'm sorry, sir, but I am expected back home soon. I am supposed to bring these groceries for the dinner tonight."

"Ah, yes," he replied, following her steps closely, not letting her evade him as she wished. "My engagement dinner with beautiful Rosalie. How has my violet-eyed beauty been lately these days? I have been too busy with work to properly visit with her."

Her mouth pulled down slightly, hearing some sort of insinuation in his voice when he spoke of work. She crinkled her nose, the scent of alcohol and cigars reeking off of him. "She has been fine, sir. Ever since your engagement was announced, she has been glowing with happiness." With a quick bob, she turned to leave. "If you don't mind, sir, I am in a hurry. And, begging your pardon, I think you should head home and get yourself cleaned up."

"Actually, I do mind," he replied, grabbing onto her arm and twisting it painfully. He smiled at the small sound of hurt that escaped her lips, the glimmer of panic that began to appear in her eyes. "I was hoping you'd stick around and...entertain me."

Lisbeth tried to pull away from him, but he held on tighter, his mouth twisting unpleasantly. Glancing quickly around, she realized in dread that the street was empty, void of life. So, closing her eyes, she swung her basketful of groceries at him with all her might, hitting him squarely on the back of his head. With a yelp, he clutched at his head, letting go of her, and she took the chance to run away. Bellowing after her, he began to chase, rage in his eyes.

She tried to lose him, turning in alleys and ducking through small spaces, but he remained close on her heels, and she swore she could feel the heat of his anger. Panic began to fill her heart, and it forced her to move faster, giving her the endurance. But, inevitably, she made a mistake. She made a wrong turn. She was ahead of him, for he had begun to slow considerably, his breath coming in fits and pants. And then she hit a wall. Literally. It was a darkened alley, and she smacked headfirst into a dead end. Despair filled her bones, and she looked around in desperation for a doorway, anything to hide in or escape through. But there was nothing.

And then, suddenly, he was there, heaving in the exertion of chasing after her. She could see him peer into the alley, and thanked all the gods. He couldn't see her hiding in the shadows of the alley, so she froze, pressing herself firmly into the sturdy wall of the building, sinking deeper into the shadows.

He glanced around, looking down the street to see if maybe she had went a different direction, but he turned back to the alley. With a frown, he began to walk forward, his steps careful and quiet. She held her breath as he passed her, wishing fervently that he couldn't hear her pounding heartbeat. With a quiet sigh of relief, she watched him make his way to the dead end, watched him feel the wall as if it were some trick of the light and she had walked through it somehow.

She took the chance to slowly creep out of the alley, back to the street. But then, she heard him cry out. "Hey!"

At the sound of his voice, she took off at a bolt. But her luck had run out. Ropes and wires that had been tossed into that alley found her feet, and she stumbled and fell. She tried to catch her fall, but only one arm managed to put itself between her and the ground, and pain blossomed in her mind as it crumpled beneath her weight and the force of her fall. As soon as her mind cleared enough for her to realize what had happened, she felt hot, heated hands upon her.

"Now, now, little Lisbeth," Royce said to her, venom in his voice as he began to drag her to the darkest part of the alley, "You've been quite a naughty girl."

She kicked at him, and was about to scream when he ground his heel into her throbbing wrist. The pain bloomed in her mind tenfold, and it stole the breath away from her. Gasping for air, hot tears began to appear in her eyes as she felt him lower himself on her, covering her mouth with his hand. "You need to be punished."

Terror began to seep into her bones as she felt his other hand creep its way up her skirt. She pressed her knees together, trying to keep him from fulfilling his dreadful destination, but he simply sat up and slapped her across her face with as much force as he could muster. The darkened alley filled with stars at the hit, and she desperately tried to blink back tears as the pain from her hurting wrist and mouth combined in a sickening fiery numbness.

He was strong, too strong for her, and every time she tired to push him off, to fight against his touch, to scream for help, he would hit her. Again and again, he beat her body, punching, slapping, and the anger and force behind them would leave her reeling. Soon, there was no fight left within her; this was a war she could not win. Still, he continued to hit her, ripping away at her clothing at the same time.

She lay, limp, and felt him tear her undergarments away, leaving her open and vulnerable. A bitter taste entered her mouth, then, more bitter than the blood that filled it, and she felt him enter her, forcing his way through. It hurt, an uncomfortable, heartbreaking feeling as he pushed and pulled against her, breathing heavily.

She did not know if the blood that seeped down her legs was from his violation or from the wounds that covered her body. There was so much hurt, in her arms, when she gasped in fits and starts, when her heart would beat; it was painful, so very painful. She _was_ pain, painted red, vision filled with pinpricks of light.

Finally, he gave a final, long groan, a disgusting warmth pooling in her insides. He pulled away, fumbling with his pants and, smoothing his hand through his hair, he smirked down at her unmoving body. "Not the best I've ever had," he said, straightening his tie. "But definitely the most ferocious. I wonder if your mistress will have as much fire. I certainly hope so."

He left her then, bleeding and naked in the cold. She felt it seep into her, the winter air, make it's way through her bones. Tears dripped from her eyes slowly, as she lay, unable to move. She closed her eyes, unable to fight against the physical and mental anguish she had suffered, and finally a blessed darkness entered her mind, taking her away from there. Time moved, as it always does, as it surely must have, and slowly the life left her body, winter taking its place.

* * *

><p>Jasper took a deep breath of the fresh air, staring up at the wide, open sky. He lay in the center of an equally wide, open field, and he basked in the starlight that twinkled down at him. He was full, having recently fed on a few humans, and though it had filled him with regret, it was better than the sickening emotions of those in the city. He sighed, rolling in the grass slightly, enjoying the sensation of being free.<p>

Feeling something jabbing him uncomfortably in his side, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an apple, a bite taken out of it. It was already beginning to brown, and the scent of rot made his stomach shift in unease. He looked at it for a moment, the familiar weight of it in his hand, remembering the taste of it, and sighed once again.

Standing, he stretched unnecessarily, another human movement that gave him a semblance of comfort, and scented the air. Glancing around, he found a direction that pleased him and he took off at a slight jog. Left behind and forgotten, the apple rocked slightly as it slowly settled into a stable position, having been dropped from the vampire's hand.

* * *

><p>Rosalie held daintily onto her fiancee's strong arm, reveling in the sensation of being part of such a smart couple. All those that they passed turned their eyes to them, and she basked in the looks of envy and adoration. <em>This is what it's supposed to be like,<em> Rosalie thought to herself, looking up at her fiancee who had a distant glaze in his eyes, creating a lofty air about him. _Love. This is love. I'm going to marry the handsomest man around._

She smiled, then, and he turned his gaze down to her and smiled pleasingly in return. He cleared his throat and, glancing away, he asked in slight disinterest, "Did you ever find that maid of yours? ...Lis...Liselle? Isabelle?"

Her smile faltered, then, thoughts turning quickly to the maid that had been missing for over week. _How sweet of him to ask, knowing that it has been quite an issue in our household,_ she thought, and she replied, "Lisbeth, dear. Not yet. No one knows what happened to her. The cook sent her off to buy ingredients and she never returned. There's been speculation that she ran away or maybe even eloped, but she left all her belongings behind."

"How odd. Maybe she grew tired of being a maid. She was quite headstrong." Glancing at his watch, he sighed. "Well, darling, I'm afraid that we must end our stroll. There is a meeting that I am supposed to attend for work."

"Of course, dear." Rosalie sighed, leaning on her fiancee slightly. "I am going to visit Vera today, I think. She is convinced she is going to have a baby boy."

"Oh, really? Even though it is just speculation, you must congratulate her for me."

Smiling at the consideration of her beloved, Rosalie sighed, contentment blooming in her heart.

* * *

><p>She died, again. A horrendous death, far different from any of the other deaths she had suffered. She died with fear in her bones, terror in her heart, pain in her blood. She took the suffering away from Jasper, chased the winter from his bones with her warmth, and in return, he left her. And so winter found residence in her bones, for her body was never found. In a city where people disappeared by the hundreds, her disappearance was quickly forgotten.<p>

Though their meeting was short, their opportunity small, it could have been enough. He could have followed her, saved her, taken her away from her life. Given her a chance to warm his heart the way she had warmed his soul, his bones. But he didn't. If it had been a different place, one not shrouded in depression, maybe he would have. But his focus was on surviving the day, not on surviving a lifetime. So he left her.

But she did change him, this time. She opened his mind a little bit, showed him the benefits of emotions, the power that was behind it. He accepted it, now, and it gave him a little bit of hope. Now he was ready to believe, eager to believe, in anything. And this prepared him for another encounter with her, and an encounter with the one who held onto the hands of destiny.

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><p><strong>Finally! Another freakin' chapter. Man, it's been a long while, hasn't it? Thanks to all those that reviewed...it certainly motivated me to finish this chapter. I had a bit of a writer's block for this one, but I plowed right thorugh it. Hopefully it lives up to the others. So, thanks again to all you reviewers. You remind me that this story exists and that I have lots of ideas for it that should be written down, at least. <strong>

**Also, sort of lived up to the 'M' rating of this story. Not as graphic as some, but still. Just another little twist I thought I'd add, a hidden nugget that ties my story with the original Twilight time line. **

**Ok, I'm tired. This took a lot out of me. Please read and review! It's very much appreciated.**

**And, before I forget, this story is based on the song "Winter Bones" by Stars. I do not own it nor do I own Twilight. Yay, disclaimer. I haven't written one in a long while.**


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